big energy

Calling All Unresolved Traumas

Calling All Unresolved Traumas

According to astrologists, we are in for quite a ride the next two weeks. To me the energy feels like a speedball. It either makes me shaky and speedy, like 10 cups of high octane Italian espresso or so sleepy I’m afraid to drive or operate heavy machinery, like my sonic care toothbrush.
Things feel incredibly tense, there could be some back biting and sharp tongues.
Maybe that’s just at my house.

Regardless, they’ll be lots of revisiting of painful situations for healing. Lots of clearing out and letting go…you know, April. April, for me, has always been a “mutha” of a month. Powerful change, ego adjustments, clearing, break ups, deaths…all the fun stuff I can’t stand.

“There can be a deep shift or psychological adjustment to an old, sad emotional space in your soul today. Work with any power struggles to help shift the energy.”
AnneOrtelee-

Oh goodie.
That was one of the tidbits from the highlight reel of my life for the next two weeks.
After taking in all this doom and gloom information, I decided to just “be advised” and go on with life as usual. I will try to breathe through the shit, and lend a hand to those that get stuck in it. That someone could be me, so I decided to wear my waders.

Here’s what has happened so far this week; It’s Wednesday….Yeah.
Three years ago, with the demise of my store, and all the legal hassles that followed, while we were negotiating the rent settlement with the landlord, he put a lien on our home. Total asshat move and just another lesson learned while swimming with the sharks. Once all the judgements were satisfied, I wanted the lien removed. ASAP. I heard nothing. I would periodically email, or ask my attorney the status, but to be honest here, when I didn’t get the paperwork or hear back, I feared I would have to take more legal action, and I just wasn’t up to it. Swimming with sharks is exhausting and demoralizing and I needed a rest.
It has been two years now, and it’s been hanging over my head. You know, that thing that you know you HAVE to do, but the thought of it makes you sorry you’re a grown up and you feel like you want to puke?
So I composed another email to the principal asshat. The one that I’ve had the hardest time forgiving. I squirmed through the whole process. It was short and to the point: Remove the lien from my home…Now…Thank you for your prompt attention to this matter.
He waited a few days, and yesterday sent all the paperwork and PDF’s that showed he had done it the day I asked; years ago. My less than competent lawyer never filed it with the county. Note to self: Lawyers on contingency are always busy with the paying clients. My case was filed under “small potatoes” and treated as such, buried in dirt….we’ll label that Lesson #1124.
So with a bit of minor paper shuffling, I AM DONE WITH THAT.
That sad, sucky situation has been revisited…and cleared. What a freaking relief.

So that was the high yesterday. The low happened in the afternoon.
Our little four month old Boxer-shark puppy had been acting lethargic for a couple of days. We tried to cover our glee with concern. She was docile and mellow, and it was heaven, but it wasn’t right. She stayed home with me yesterday, just sleeping and re enacting the deathbed scene from “Terms of Endearment.” Big sad eyes, stoically smiling through her pain. At 3pm I became the mother from that movie, when suddenly I had to rush her to the vet. She had woken up limp and shaking, and unable to walk on her left leg. I drove the three miles to the Vet in two and a half minutes, yelling back at her limp, sad face to hold on. Once there, I found out our little tripod was running a very high fever. They couldn’t see much in the X-rays. They couldn’t explain the high fever. So…to the specialist we went. My husband, who loves dogs more than people, joined me, and we rushed her, in rush hour, to the Spendy Vet. Spendy Vet is where you go at 3am, or drive a hundred miles an hour to get to. It costs minimum $500 to walk in the door, and it means you have a very sick animal.
We had done this exact drive to this exact facility in 2007 with our old boxer girl Penelope. She just started one day to have horrible seizures. Pancreatitis was suspected…go see the specialists. We took her for tests, and the next day, when we went to visit her, we were told the prognosis was so bleak, we had no choice but to put her down. It was so unexpected and traumatic. I’ll never forget it. Either will my husband. He told me on the drive over yesterday, that he purposely avoids that section of Sepulveda Blvd, because he can’t stand to see that building. The wound is still too fresh. And here we are, on our way there, with our sick baby puppy.
We were only there an hour total and the situation couldn’t have been more different than before. Yes, she was really sick, but they assured us, she was so young and going to be fine. Everyone was petting her and kissing her, and the doctor owned boxers, so he received my husbands seal of approval. Which is very hard to come by. When they called early this morning, her fever had broken and she was in all her wild puppiness once again.
So, we revisited a VERY sad and painful situation, going back to the scene of the crime, so to speak, and had a completely different and actually lovely outcome.
Maybe my husband can stop his self inflicted detours and drive past that building now. That’s a huge healing.

If this is what the energy is bringing, I think I can do this. So far so good. It does feel like a speeding train and I want to put my big Fred Flintstone foot out and slow this puppy down. But that’s highly unadvisable. 
These are yucky, sucky, sticky, painful situations that needed clearing. It feels shitty, until you get to the other side. Easy for me to say today, let’s see what happens the next two weeks.
Hey, nice thing is; we’re all in this together.

Are you revisiting your own painful situations for clearing? How is this big energy affecting you? I’d love to hear about it in the comments below.

XoxJanet

Hi, I’m Janet

Mentor. Pirate. Dropper of F-bombs.

This is where I write about my version of life. My stories. Told in my own words.

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